


efflorescence

by battleshidge (Amiria_Raven)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers, Allurance Big Bang 2018, Arranged Marriage AU, F/M, Fantasy AU, Slow-ish burn, allurance bb, check the tags for links to the fanart from my bb partner!, growing together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-27 01:44:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15013949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amiria_Raven/pseuds/battleshidge
Summary: Neither of them were prepared for marriage, but Prince Lance and Queen Allura had few options to choose from. With the ever-growing threat of the Galran Empire, alliances must be forged wherever possible, however possible.A marriage of convenience is just another way to form an alliance, after all, and a royal is but a slave to their people.Or: Lance is getting married more for his family than his people, and Allura is getting married more for her country than herself, and though they don't quite fit together at first, there's always room to grow.





	efflorescence

**Author's Note:**

> So I used the original summary I had for claims and tweaked it because...it made the story seem like it would be more intense than it actually was ever fully intended to be. Though if I'd been doing it on my own time I probably would have taken longer to flesh out more of the war stuff I hinted at because I'm a sucker for Dramatics.
> 
> Anyway! My first true foray into writing Allurance IS HERE.
> 
> CHeck the bottom for links to my partner's fabulous artworks when they're posted and I can add them! :D

 

The riverboat rocked beneath his feet. It was a welcome sensation, because it reminded him of the open sea and the billowing sails of home. The smell of salt in the air had already faded, however, and the gentle ocean breeze that had carried it had receded. Still, there was another half a day’s journey upriver before he crossed the borders into his new home in the verdant, floral nation of Altea. His beloved Maricielo was far behind him, as were the comforting sounds of the waves and the cry of gulls in the air.

With a sigh, Lance turned his back on the horizon, where green obscured what once had been a clear blue ocean in the distance. There was no turning back now, he supposed.

He _was_ on his way to his wedding, after all.

He leaned back against the railing, ignoring how several of the sailors eyed him nervously. Only a handful were his father’s hand-picked sailors, born and raised on the seas of Maricielo, and they scarcely spared their prince a second glance as they worked. They were well aware that he was no stranger to being on the water, but he supposed the Alteans of the crew didn’t have that awareness.

If he was in slightly higher spirits, he’d have considered pretending to lose his balance just to see how they’d react. The looks on their faces would probably be priceless.

Today wasn’t that kind of day, though. For one, Hunk would kill him if he found out that Lance had played the crew like that...once he stopped ejecting all the food he’d eaten in the last day or so. Poor guy. And, aside from his best friend and conscience being upset with him, he couldn’t imagine what his bride-to-be would do if she found out about it.

Lance didn’t know too much about Her Royal Majesty, Queen Allura of Altea, but he did know that she was a sight to behold as well as a woman you absolutely did not want as your enemy. Altea was famous not only for their rare flora, such as the juniberry, but also for their fighters and military might. He’d heard on good authority that the princess–now queen–was no exception to the rule. He didn’t exactly fancy starting their marriage off with her mad at him for playing a trick on her citizens.

He just wished he knew more about her personally. They had probably met a grand total of three times and only exchanged a handful of words, even when she had visited to finalize the terms of their coming nuptials.

That was the way with a marriage of convenience, he supposed. Altea would get port access through Maricielo, and an ally whose naval power rivalled and perhaps bested the growing Galran threat, and Maricielo would get access to some of Altea’s trade routes and trading partners and wares, as well as an ally whose military might was second to none. It all worked out for the best for both Maricielo and Altea, but it still felt an awful lot like being used.

Lance had never liked arranged marriages or political marriages. Something in the very idea of them felt hollow and lonely. Perhaps it was because they were marriages built not on love and trust and mutual understanding, but more on what their was to gain from the union. But Lance also knew that he had an obligation to Maricielo, as a member of the royal family, and the country must come first.

It didn’t mean he liked it any better, though.

“Your Highness, are you feeling well?”

Startled, Lance turned toward the sailor that had addressed him. It was one of his own countrymen, concern twinkling in the depths of his blue eyes.

“You’ve been quite reserved so far,” he continued, looking out across the river. “It’s unusual. Perhaps the river does not suit Your Highness as well as the sea?”

Lance grinned at him. “Thanks for the concern, but I’ll be fine. I guess I’m just realizing how much I’ll miss the water.”

The sailor nodded knowingly, staring back at the horizon. “Aye. Traveling upstream does that to a man.”

“Well,” the prince stretched, rolling his shoulders as he pushed away from the rail. “It’s no use fretting about it now, is it? The ocean will always be beyond those trees, and I’ll have plenty of time to miss her later.”

“You’re a stronger man than I.”

Lance smiled back at his countryman. “It’s a lot harder than it looks, I promise you that.”

They fell silent for a few moments before another crewman called his companion away, and after he politely dismissed himself, Lance was left alone again. He considered returning to the rail, but decided to turn belowdecks to check up on Hunk. At the very least, it would give the Altean crew that had been watching him a few minutes to breathe again, and Hunk could probably use the company.

Hunk had been Lance’s closest friend since he’d been brought in as his tutor when they were twelve. It had been a rocky start, since Hunk had focused more on their studies and trying to get Lance to apply himself than on actually building a friendship with the prince, but with time it had all worked out. When he started treating Lance more like a normal guy than a member of the royal family, they just clicked.

At first, Lance wasn’t going to ask him to come along. Hunk, like Lance, had lived all his life among the islands of Maricielo, and his entire family remained there. Lance wasn’t about to ask him to come with him. He didn’t want his friend to leave his family because he felt obligated to, after all.

It had been Hunk’s decision to come, and Lance never had to ask.

With his role as friend, confidant, and as a newly appointed royal advisor, Hunk was Lance’s rock. It was about time Lance tried to return the favor, even if it was just to distract Hunk momentarily from his motion sickness.

The third prince steeled himself and slipped below, nodding to anyone he passed in the belly of the riverboat. As he neared the quarters they’d been given, Lance noticed a suspicious lack of crew in the area. The moaning that sounded soon after was enough reason, and Lance shook his head as he reached to knock on the door.

“Hunk, buddy, it’s me.”

“Are we–” a pause for a groan as the ship rocked, “–almost to Altea?”

Lance pushed the door open gently, slipping inside and closing it behind him. “Unfortunately not, buddy. Got about half a day left until we get to the borders, and then we still have to make it to Aluria.”

Hunk just let out a pathetic whine in response.

“Hey, we’ll be there before you know it!” he tried, striding over to the chair bolted in a corner and flopping into it. “You’ve still gotta tell me all that stuff I’m supposed to know, right? Something about the capital being named after the first queen or something? Hey, is Queen Allura named after the city or the queen? Or, since the city’s named after that queen, does that mean that even if Allura’s named after the city, she’s still named after her ancestor?”

“Queen Aluria was the first queen of Altea,” Hunk mumbled, barely audible. He swallowed and continued. “She’s famous for recognizing some of the healing qualities of juniberries but also for putting out an act to protect them, since they were already rare enough before their healing properties were publicized. There’s actually…” he paused as the boat rocked again, and then forged on, “...there’s actually a festival near midsummer, when the flowers are at their peak growth, when the royal family gets to hand-pick the single flower that will be used for any medicinal salves needed in the palace for the year. Citizens are supposed to follow that example and only take as needed, to protect the flower.”

“Is that why the juniberry is the symbol of Altea?”

Hunk nodded, pushing himself into a sitting position and leaning against the wall. He didn’t elaborate, and Lance cast around for another trail to pick up on. Anything to keep his buddy focused more on Lance’s lacking knowledge of his country-to-be than on his nausea.

“Was Allura really named after the city, or after her great-great-something grandma?”

With a nearly disappointed huff, Hunk gave Lance a very particular kind of look. Lance shrugged sheepishly in response. “She was named after the first queen, Lance. Not after the city.”

“Are you _sure_?” Lance pushed back, crossing his arms. “How can you be sure? You don’t know what the late king and queen were thinking when they named their daughter. Do you think they thought she’d be a he and had to pick a new name on the spot because they hadn’t picked out any girl names?”

Hunk groaned. “Lance…”

“Okay, okay!” he put his hands up. “Just a thought!”

“Take it seriously, Lance,” Hunk frowned. His tone was earnest, and Lance dropped all of his scattered ideas of asking more questions. “I know this was sudden–”

“Sudden? I had less than two months, Hunk!”

“I _know_ , Lance. Like I said, this was sudden, but you can’t make light of things like that. They’re important parts of Altea’s history, and if you’re going to marry the queen–if you’re going to be the _king_ –you’ve got to take it seriously. Her Majesty isn’t going to like it if you treat things like a joke, even if you’re just trying to lighten the mood. You guys don’t know each other well enough for her to know that.”

“We don’t know each other at _all_ ,” a slight whine found its way into his voice.

“That’s my point,” Hunk’s tone was imploring now. “You don’t know each other. She doesn’t know that you care more than your attitude implies, or that you’re worried about doing something wrong. She doesn’t know that you never expected to take a throne, since you have three older brothers, but she also doesn’t know how hard you’ve been studying the last few weeks to learn all the royal customs that you’re supposed to know as a future ruler from Maricielo to catch up on all the years you slacked off. If you’re not careful, she might take one of your jokes the wrong way, and that will only make your relationship harder.”

“I know that, Hunk,” Lance sank into the chair, avoiding eye contact with his friend. “I do. There’s just so much I don’t know about. Way too much to learn in just a few months, even though I tried. So what am I going to do if I screw this up?”

“You’ll apologize and make it work, Lance,” Hunk leaned his head against the wall again. “You have a way with people, you know. Even if you mess up, they’ll warm up to you eventually.”

“I’d rather be on speaking terms with my wife before I’m thirty,” he responded dryly. Hunk sighed, but didn’t continue that conversation.

Instead, he turned to look at Lance. “I’m not trying to scold you, Lance. I’m really not.”

“I know,” he closed his eyes, tilting his head back. “You’re just worried about me, buddy. I get that. And I really appreciate it. I’m just…” he struggled for a moment, but then admitted, “I’m not ready for this.”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think Her Majesty’s quite ready, either.”

Lance found it hard to believe that Queen Allura could ever be unprepared for anything. She was a strong, beautiful, independent kind of woman–at least from what he’d seen of her the few times they’d met–and it was she who had extended the offer of marriage. But Hunk was pretty observant, and Lance trusted his judgment, so maybe there was something more.

“At least I’ve got you, Hunk,” Lance flopped forward, elbows on his knees, and smiled at his best friend. “I don’t know how I’d do this if you weren’t here to kick my ass if I screw up.”

Hunk just laughed...until the ship rocked again and he paled a little.

* * *

 

Allura huffed, staring out the window. Behind her, her surrogate father and most trusted advisor, Coran, sighed.

“I’ve told you, Princess, he’s a good lad,” she watched Coran say in the reflection of the glass. She didn’t bother correcting him to remind him that she was the queen now. “Lance may be more easygoing than most royalty, but I assure you that’s part of his charm.”

“I don’t doubt that he’s a good man,” Allura shot back, more venom in her tone than she had intended. “If you trust him, I do as well. I just…”

She trailed off, biting her lip.

She just wasn’t ready to settle down and be married. Her parents had been a few years older than she was now when they had married, and they had wed out of love, not necessity. It had always been her mother’s wish, and later her father’s, that Allura should do the same. But the times did not allow for her to find romance at her leisure.

Allura wasn’t ready to marry, but she would do anything for Altea. This kingdom and its people and their wellbeing were the legacy left by her parents, and she would do anything to protect it from the Galra threat.

“I know,” was the only thing Coran said in response, and she knew he did.

She cleared her throat and shook her head before she turned to face him and straightened her spine as she did.

“My husband-to-be arrives today, does he not?” she asked, hiding the tremor in her tone.

“Yes, _Lance_ and his entourage arrive in the early afternoon, should everything be on schedule,” Coran nodded stiffly. “So long as the ship is not attacked by yalmors of the aquatic variety, or mandeluvian eels, or else the giant strain of borg wolfbears that come down from the mountains–”

“I’m sure that my hus–that _Lance’s_ journey will safely end here, as scheduled,” Allura cut Coran off, chuckling under her breath. “There hasn’t been a sighting of any of those creatures in a century, Coran. I doubt they’ll crawl out of their hiding places to sabotage my marriage. Now come, see to it that all the preparations are complete for their arrival, and I will see that I am prepared to face him.”

She meant to steel herself, and dress herself like a queen about to greet her King. Allura would wear one of her finest gowns and stand tall to step forward into the future of her country. Her own inner turmoil, she’d long since decided, mattered very little in the face of Altea’s needs, and her future husband and king didn’t need to see her doubts so plainly on her face when they met again.

Coran’s mustache twitched as if he wanted to say something, but he took a moment. When he finally spoke, it was to say, “Yes, of course, Princess,” with a stately nod. She could tell he knew the deeper meaning of her words, and she was thankful he didn’t address them further, no matter how much he wanted to. “Once the preparations are complete, I will inform you immediately.”

“Thank you, Coran.”

He nodded again and excused himself, and Allura watched him go before letting out a soft sigh.

Allura knew that she couldn’t stay in her current headspace, especially not when greeting the third prince of Maricielo upon his arrival. She needed to relax and face him not only as queen, but as his wife. It had seemed so easy, but now, two months after the arrangement had finally been cemented, she found she still hadn’t prepared herself enough.

She slumped into the chair at her desk, sighing as she ran a hand through her hair.

Now, more than ever, Allura wondered if she was making the right decision. She knew that the match was advantageous for Altea and for Maricielo, but she still felt like it was almost...dirty. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t proposed the idea before, as the relationship between the kingdoms had always been good, but it hadn’t been accepted or deemed necessary until the Galra had sent a threat on the young Princess Veronica’s life.

It had spooked them, and the king had accepted her proposal of marriage to his youngest son.

It wasn’t an ideal situation, but their alliance would be stronger because of the marriage, and it was a result Allura couldn’t argue with. Altea needed the naval prowess and port access provided by allying with Maricielo, and Maricielo needed the added military prowess to protect their landward borders. She had to remember that her country was not the only one benefiting from the arrangement.

And, Allura reminded herself, she wasn’t the only one that was likely marrying before she was ready. The same could probably be said for Lance.

“Pull yourself together, Allura,” she scolded, clapping her hands to her cheeks with more force than necessary. It stung and she grimaced, pushing herself up. “You are a _queen_.”

She had to try for dignity, grace, and kindness, among other things, even though all she wanted to do was take her horse out for a hard ride and maybe a bit of combat practice. She felt like she’d been pushed into a corner, and while she knew Maricielo’s royals probably didn’t feel much different, she couldn’t help the restless feeling.

Was it really the right time for a wedding?

But another part of her asked, _will there ever be a better time_? and she found herself unable to answer.

A knock came at the door of her study and she shook her head quickly to rid herself of those troublesome thoughts.

“Yes? You may enter.”

The door opened, and a tall, broad woman stepped through. “They told me you would be here, Your Majesty.”

Allura’s shoulders sagged in relief and she rounded her desk to greet her old friend, smiling. “Shay! I wasn’t aware that you had arrived, or I would have come to greet you at the steps!”

“I would not dare pull you away from preparations for something so trivial, Your Majesty,” Shay bowed her head as Allura reached forward to grasp her hands.

“Please, Shay, you know I prefer it if you, at least, call me by name,” Allura insisted. “And your arrival isn’t something so trivial to me, you know! I’m so honored you came, even though it was such short notice.”

“Of course I came,” Shay sounded almost offended, which was a testament to their many years of friendship. When they’d first met, when Alfor had sent for a member of the Balmeran tribes in the mountains to be Allura’s childhood friend and playmate, Shay had been very careful to always be polite. It was tiring, sometimes, but she was now more at ease, and Allura was always thankful for that.

“You had only been home for a few months, though,” Allura stepped back, looking over her friend. “I know you had missed your family, since it had been a while since your last extended stay, so you could have said no–”

“Never!” Shay waved her hands in front of her. She was a big woman, as most Balmerans were, but her actions were still incredibly dainty. It was cute. “Allura, I could never say no to you, and I would never miss your wedding. I would not be able to forgive myself! But please, do not fret. I am here as your friend, but also as the representative for my tribe. So you see, the blame–if you still choose to consider it as such–is not entirely yours, for calling me away from my people so soon.”

Allura couldn’t help it. She smiled, and then let a small laugh escape. “Of course, of course. I still feel selfish, but I have to say it–I’m so glad you’re here, Shay.”

The Balmeran beamed, and then held out her arms. With another laugh, Allura stepped forward to hug her oldest friend.

“If you keep being such a great person, I’m going to move your appointment as one of my royal advisors up, you know,” she mumbled against Shay’s shoulder, and Shay giggled.

“Do as you wish, my lady. I can start at any moment!”

They shared another laugh and parted. “Don’t tempt me, Shay. I may take you up on that!”

“Again, do as you wish,” she smiled again. “And, should you have suddenly decided I start now, then my first official advice to you, as a member of your council, would be to begin preparing for your fiancé’s arrival. Coran, I am told, is seeing to the rest of the arrangements, so we must see to it that you are prepared.”

“Ah, yes,” Allura straightened, tugging idly at her sleeve. A warm hand descended upon her shoulder, and she looked up into Shay’s knowing eyes.

“Shall I assist you, and lend an ear to any worries you may have?”

Allura felt the last of the tension in her shoulders ease, and nodded. “That would be wonderful.”

* * *

 

Hunk still looked pretty green, but he stood tall and held it in as he stood next to Lance on the deck. Lance would have preferred to lean against the rail and get a closer look at Aluria as the riverboat rounded a bend and the forest that had lined the water made way for fields of flowers and magnolia trees.

He hated to admit it, but the sea of flowers on either side of the river, spreading for miles before him, was nearly as captivating as the starlight on the surface of the clear oceans of his home. There was still quite a ways to travel, but now the city was in sight, and the castle raised at its center stood towering above the rest. It was framed by the Balmeran Mountains in the distance and in the sunlight, Lance could see that even the towers reflected the fields of flowers.

Lance immediately wanted to know what it was made of, but shook his head. That was a question for another time.

“Is one of these flowers the juniberry?” he asked Hunk instead.

Hunk swallowed thickly. “No, I don’t believe so. The juniberries are said to be somewhere in a clearing between Aluria and the Balmeran Mountains, though no outsiders really know exactly where.”

“Huh,” Lance acknowledged, and then caught himself shamelessly gaping. He’d seen a great number of flora in his time, since his mother had a wonderful tropical garden in the palace back home, but the vibrancy of the fields around Aluria would give even that garden a run for its money.

He’d seen several different flowers since they’d neared Altea’s borders and even more since they’d crossed into Altea, but this was on another level.

“Do you think they see us coming?” he spoke again, dragging his attention back to the city. It looked like something out of a daydream, really. It looked so clear-cut and clean, as if the buildings had never been weathered by salty waters and the normal midsummer squalls–which, he realized, they probably hadn’t. The weather here in Altea must be vastly different from what he was used to.

“Probably,” Hunk managed, but he shut his mouth quickly as the boat rocked gently beneath their feet.

A faint ringing, as though a bell had been struck, echoed and seemed to ripple across the water towards them.

“Take that as a yes,” Lance said aloud, to no one in particular. Hunk made a miserable sounding grumble of agreement but otherwise stayed silent.

“You are correct, Your Highness.”

Lance nearly jumped, but managed to contain himself as he turned to the voice. One of the Alteans that had served as a royal emissary in Maricielo was standing there, offering a small bow.

“Am I?” Lance prompted.

“Yes, indeed, sir. That sound you just heard is a bell we ring on special occasions, when important visitors are sighted upon these waters. If the visitors are coming from Maricielo, there is a high, clear tone, but should our guests ever come by water from the other direction, the sound is full and rich.” He bowed his head again, and Lance shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t know if he could tell this guy to stop treating him like that or not, so he kept his mouth shut. The Altean continued, “These bells help serve as a warning or a reminder. As a warning, two chimes in quick succession means it is an enemy, and three means that the intention is unknown.”

“I see,” Lance trailed off, eyes following the ripples on the water as the riverboat continued its path toward the city. “The single chime gives people the opportunity to be there to greet us when we arrive, I take it?”

He nodded, and Lance hummed his acknowledgement. The Altean emissary then excused himself, claiming other duties very quickly in the cabins below the deck.

Lance once more focused on the city ahead, watching as some of the flower fields gave way to crops and then back to flowers once more, as some herds of sheep grazed idly on some heavily scented yellow flowers he’d never seen before, and he started to take slow, deep breaths.

Almost before he knew it, Hunk pulled him back to the cabin while the boat prepared to dock, and then helped him freshen up and look like a “proper” prince...whatever that could have meant.

“I _always_ look like a prince,” Lance snorted, pouting. “Considering the fact that, I don’t know, I _am_ one?”

“Ha, ha,” Hunk said dryly, frowning. “You’re like a hurricane, Lance. You’re a force of nature. You can look like a proper prince once minute and then like a someone else entirely the next. You’re completely unpredictable, you know.”

“Still,” Lance protested, “I always look good.”

“Looking good and looking royal are not the same thing,” Hunk maintained, working on taming Lance’s short, windswept locks while Lance himself fussed with the cuffs of his shirt. “And don’t forget not to slouch, Lance, that one’s important. I would tell you not to let your emotions get away with you, either, but that wouldn’t help. Your face is really expressive, and open, so even the slightest eyebrow twitch could be seen from a mile away–”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy, but I remember the lecture from before we left,” he groaned. “And the one from by the border. And now this one. You’d think I had the memory of a goldfish. Hey, do you think they have goldfish here? Do you think they have fish at all?”

“Lance, you’re on a river. A river that goes right up to the capital city. Of _course_ they have fish. Now stop trying to distract yourself again.”

Whoops. He hadn’t even realized it, but as soon as Hunk scolded him, Lance knew that’s what he’d been doing. He’d tried to avert conversation of the topic at hand so that he would temporarily forget, and that wasn’t something he could afford to do right now.

“Sorry, Hunk.” He finished with his cuffs and smoothed out the slate-colored vest with trembling hands. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

Hunk gave him a weak smile, probably because he was still fighting the effects of his motion sickness, and held up the royal blue tailcoat that Lance was to wear. As Lance nodded and stepped forward to slide his arms in the sleeves, Hunk helped straighten the collar and lapel before squeezing Lance’s shoulders reassuringly.

“I’ll always be here, buddy. Just don’t make me get on another boat for at least ten years. I’d rather walk back home for a visit.”

They shared a laugh, until the boat rocked again and Hunk paled once more. This time, Lance rubbed a comforting circle on his friend’s back and listened to the sounds of the boat being tied at the docks. A heavy _clunk_ sounded, and Lance figured it was the pathway to the dock, ready for disembarkation.

A few moments later, the sailor he’d talked with earlier appeared to tell them that it was time.

“Let’s get you off this boat, huh?” Lance smiled, nudging Hunk gently. “It’s time for you to finally get to rest, and it’s time for me to greet my fiancée.”

Lance stood straighter, fussed with his coat for a moment, ensured that his belt was situated well, and then smiled at Hunk. Hunk looked as nervous as Lance felt, but he struggled to smile for Lance’s sake and it meant the world. He was glad he had his best friend here with him, though he’d never have forced him to come.

Squaring his shoulders, Lance stepped forward and left the cabin to find his path to the dock lined by the Altean entourage that had been aboard with them, and he swallowed past the lump in his throat to work up the nerve to keep going. His boots sounded excessively loud as he strode across the deck, so he tried to ignore them. Instead, he offered words of thanks to the men and women that lined his path before raising his eyes ahead.

Queen Allura of Altea was striding down the dock, her skirts flaring around her. She walked with purpose and with pride rather than the timidity shown by most, and Lance felt immediate respect sink into his core.

 _This_ , he knew, is how a queen should walk. Especially one that ruled the kingdom and had ever since her father’s untimely death in battle four years prior.

As he stepped from the riverboat onto the planking of the docks, the queen and her entourage came to a halt not ten feet away. Her skirts swirled around her feet for a moment before the momentum from her brisk walk had faded, and her hair did much the same around her face.

Lance swallowed, hard. He tried not to stare, but when he finally saw her so close, he couldn’t help himself.

The rumors about the queen had not been false. He had already known she was beautiful, from their brief encounters prior, but now that his father was not standing as a buffer between them, and now that her attention was fully focused on Lance himself, he could truly appreciate it. The soft pink markings on her cheeks accentuated the curve of her cheekbone and made her eyes stand out, a striking blue that seemed to reflect the colors of all the flowers he’d passed on the way.

“Your Majesty,” he managed, drawing himself into a formal bow.

“Your Highness,” she greeted in return, dipping in an Altean curtsy. “I hope the journey did not seem too long, though I’m sure you must be tired. Please, allow me to accompany you through the city.”

With one arm, she gestured widely to Aluria behind her. The other hand, she offered towards him, delicately, and Lance knew this gesture from his crash course in etiquette.

“I would be honored,” Lance inclined his head again, and then stepped forward, next to the queen. He lifted his arm, so that it rested just beneath her own, and she proceeded to rest her hand on top of his. By Altean custom, it was not proper to truly link arms until after they were wed, so this was the appropriate way to stand beside one another. “I hope I find you well, Your Majesty.”

“Quite,” she offered a small smile, but he noted it did not quite reach her eyes. She was tense, and he thought he understood the feeling. “I am in excellent health. Tell me, Your Highness, would you prefer to walk through the city or shall we ride to the palace?”

Lance wanted to tug at his too-tight collar and shake this nervousness, but he couldn’t do that here.

“It already looks like such a beautiful city,” Lance glanced back towards it, now that he could see the streets and the flowers in bloom in every available window planter. “If it suits Your Majesty, I would enjoy a stroll.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” she smiled and nodded, gesturing towards the city proper. “It is a lovely day,” she added, “and I rarely get the opportunity to show off our capital city.”

Her tone was bright enough, but Lance had always been good at reading people. To any outsider, they may have been a little awkward and, for a couple about to wed perhaps a little stiff, and they would have been right. And with every word she spoke, each deliberately cheerful phrase that fell from her lips, Lance could see that his beautiful wife-to-be was forcing herself.

At least he knew he wasn’t the only one, then.

* * *

 

Allura had bid a brief farewell to her husband-to-be after taking him on a walk through the city and then showing him to his temporary lodgings in the east wing of the Castle of Lions, and now she was preparing for the first of presumably many dinners with him.

“Remember,” Shay told her gently as she adjusted Allura’s necklace, “Lance is probably just as nervous as you are, Princess. In my brief conversation with his advisor, Hunk, it seemed highly likely, at least. You must take time and try to get to know him, especially if he is to be your husband.”

Allura sighed, but she couldn't deny the truth in Shay's words.

She chose not to comment on Shay's flush when she had mentioned the prince's advisor. There would be other days to tease her friend, but the eve of her own wedding, and effectively the union of two nations, did not feel like the right time.

After a long pause, in which Shay started to mess with Allura’s hair to tame the runaway locks, the queen finally spoke.

“I'm glad you're here.”

In the vanity mirror, she saw Shay smile softly at her, and Allura knew that she'd picked up on the words unspoken.

“You know I couldn't bear to miss it,” Shay responded simply, lightly clasping Allura's shoulder.

They remained silent for a few minutes, Allura allowing herself to relax in the comfort if her friend's presence. Shay was reassuring and gentle, and she couldn't have asked for a better childhood companion and future councillor.

After a short time, there was a rap at the door.

“Your Majesty, dinner is served,” informed a voice through the door.

With a shared glance, she and Shay both made their way to the door. Before Allura could reach for the handle herself, Shay was there, opening it for her.

“Your Majesty,” she bowed her head, smiling slightly because she knew, in the presence of others, she could get away with using formalities.

“Thank you, Shay,” Allura smiled back. “Thank you, Platt. We shall be on our way. My fiance has been informed as well?”

“Yes, Your Majesty! Prince Lance and his companions should have been informed by my sisters!”

Allura nodded, smiling at the enthusiastic boy. “Very well. Thank you for your hard work, Platt.”

He bowed with enthusiasm, and Allura had to bite back a chuckle. Ever since Coran had brought the four young siblings to the palace, they had been grateful and eager to please. In her opinion, they needn't try so hard. They were dear to the entire staff, and many treated them as their own family.

“Let us head to dinner, Your Majesty, lest we keep the guests waiting,” Shay prompted gently.

“Yes, it wouldn't do to keep my fiance waiting. It would likely make a poor impression.”

Together, the two ladies made their way to the dining hall, with the pageboy following ten paces behind. With each step, Allura steeled herself anew.

This would be her first of many meals in close proximity to this man. She would learn some of his eating habits and table etiquette. She would see more of his mannerisms. In a way, this dinner with just their closest advisors could be Allura's first real look at her future husband's personality.

He had seemed a little stiff when they strolled through Aluria upon his arrival, but she knew she had also been awkward. Shay had informed her of as much once they'd parted ways. Allura wondered if Lance's awkwardness had anything to do with her own, since Coran had described the third prince of Maricielo as a rather outgoing and cheerful person.

The thought was a little sobering.

Allura wanted her husband to be proper, to be a caring king, but she also didn't want him to be someone he wasn't. Coran had been in Maricielo often enough to work up a comfortable rapport with Prince Lance, and his stories didn't quite match with the subdued man she'd greeted today.

“You seem lost in thought,” Shay remarked as they descended a flight of stairs. Allura shook her head and prepared to apologize, but Shay continued, “I'm sure it will be fine, Allura. Prince Lance seems like a good man, and I'm sure you will be able to have a conversation with him to talk about your concerns and his concerns.”

Allura nodded and allowed a short sigh to escape her lips. “Yes, I’m sure we can discuss matters further. Tonight, however, I feel that we should first learn more about each other.”

Shay hummed in response but remained silent as they turned a corner and started down the stairs to the entrance hall.

* * *

 

Lance wasn’t quite sure what to expect from dinner.

He did, however, know how to deal with nervous children. When he noticed that the younger of the two girls sent to fetch them was digging her toes nervously against the stone, he had to step in. As a proud older brother, he didn’t like to see young kids look so shy.

He knelt down to her level and her older sister gasped, starting to say something, but Lance put a finger to his lips and winked.

Hunk sighed a good-natured sigh behind him. His long-suffering friend and advisor knew what was coming, of course. As he didn’t move to stop Lance, though, the prince deemed it okay.

“What’s your name?” he asked the small one cheerfully.

“Chulatt!” she answered, almost on reflex. Lance grinned.

“That’s a cute name! And your sister?”

“Chuchule,” her answer was slower this time, and she peered up at him. “We have two brothers, too!”

Lance’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, really?”

She nodded. “Uh-huh. Platt and Plachu.”

“Chulatt,” the older girl whispered, almost in warning. “The prince needs to head down to dinner.”

“Oh!” she flushed, then clumsily curtsied. “I’m sorry for taking up your time!”

“No, no!” Lance chuckled, reaching forward to playfully tug at one of her pigtails. “It’s fine. In fact, I’m glad you’re still here. You see, this castle is super different from the one back home. Do you think you could take me to the dining hall?”

The older girl, probably about twelve, straightened her spine. “Of course, your highness. Are you ready to go, or do you need a few moments?”

Lance groaned in an exaggerated way as he stood up, then put his hand on her shoulder. He squeezed gently, and she looked surprised. A good kid, he decided, just a little stiff around new people. “We’re ready to go, aren’t we, Hunk?”

Hunk, who had been watching him carefully from the side, agreed. “Yes, we shouldn’t be late to our dinner with Queen Allura.”

“Follow me, then, please,” Chuchule bowed before turning to lead the way. Chulatte made to follow her, with a glance back at Lance, and Lance and Hunk followed them after that. Lance really wanted to ruffle their hair like he would with Veronica’s, but these girls weren’t his sister and they probably weren’t used to that kind of treatment from visiting royalty.

Instead, he fell in step next to Hunk.

“Do you think they play ball games in their free time?” he asked idly, watching as Chulatt jogged a few steps to tug at her older sister’s sleeve and mutter something to her.

“I’m sure they play some kind of game,” Hunk pulled out a small notepad from his suit jacket’s inner pocket. “I didn’t really think to research that kind of thing before we came, but I suppose we could look into it. I wonder if the townspeople would be willing to tell me about them.”

“Nah,” Lance smiled fondly at the little hop that Chulatt did out of excitement. He supposed that Chuchule’s answer had pleased her. “I’d rather learn from these kids and their brothers.”

In his peripherals, he saw the way Hunk’s head jerked towards him.

“Oh, no. Lance, you can’t spend all your time here goofing off and learning to play games with children! What would the queen think?”

Lance laughed. “Oh, c’mon, buddy! I’m not trying to shirk my responsibilities or whatever. I just feel that you can get an idea of a country just by learning from the kids, that’s all. It’s not like I was planning to spend all my time playing games.”

“You’d better not be,” Hunk huffed a little, but as they rounded the corner and the stairs back to the main entryway came into view, he tucked his notepad away once more. “Now remember, Lance–”

“Be polite, be courteous, don’t offend her, and don’t embarrass Maricielo. No pressure, right?”

Lance flashed a grin that didn’t hide the nervousness he felt, and Hunk’s brow creased in concern, his eyes warm and understanding. In a rare public display of their brotherly affection, Hunk grasped Lance’s shoulder gently and shook him a little.

“You’ll be fine. Just be yourself, Lance.”

“Yeah,” he laughed a little, straightening his jacket. “I don’t think I can be anyone else, can I?”

* * *

 

Allura and Prince Lance had arrived only minutes apart, though Allura had arrived sooner. She and the two advisors she’d selected to dine with her, Shay and Coran, stood to greet their guests. Lance and his man conducted themselves well, and Allura schooled her expression to one of utter calm.

So far, so good.

Before she really had a chance to speak with Lance, though, she learned several things about him. Whether or not they would be useful in the future was yet to be determined, but she quietly filed everything away.

First, she realized that the slightly boisterous attitude he’d displayed earlier wasn’t a fluke. He’d been nervous and subdued earlier, but as the meal began and Lance became more comfortable, his cheerfulness came out. He smiled easily, and each one was warm and friendly. Sometimes it seemed like he was trying too hard to be liked–not necessarily by Allura, but by Coran and Shay. Getting to know Allura’s closest councillors wasn’t a bad tactic, and she had to give him credit for that.

Next, she learned that her husband-to-be had acceptable table etiquette. There were a few times he’d nearly slipped up, but his advisor, Hunk, had whispered something to him and he’d corrected himself efficiently, if lacking in grace. She knew that picking up another kingdom’s dining quirks could be difficult, so she granted that there was room to grow and that he had time.

She also learned that the third prince of Maricielo wore his heart on his sleeve.

No matter how hard he tried to hide his expressions, he always failed. The calm façade he wore at their greeting faded when they sat to dinner and light conversation began. He didn’t hide his surprise when Shay revealed how tall she was, and the loud exclamation had briefly startled Allura. When Coran started in on a tale about a rather nasty Yalmor that Allura had heard many times in her youth, Lance chortled at all the right parts and sighed in exasperation when Coran made to move to another story.

It was near the end of the meal, as everyone was finishing their desserts, that Allura finally realized she hadn’t had much direct conversation with him at all. She had carefully filed away his expressions, his mannerisms, and how quick he was to enthusiasm, but she hadn’t actually interacted with him.

She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin with as much composure as she could, and finally spoke, “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I was wondering if I might have a private word with my fiance?”

Lance flinched a little–another sign of how easy it was to read him, although she didn’t know him well enough to know whether it was just surprise or whether there might have been a bit of dread in his reaction.

“It’s no trouble at all, Your Majesty,” Lance smiled at her. Once again, she noted that his smile came easy and filled with warmth, although his eyes betrayed a little of the unease that the curve of his lips did not.

“Thank you,” Allura smiled carefully back. She turned to the rest of the table, “There’s no rush, however. Please take your time to finish the meal. I will be in my office in the meantime.”

Platt came forward to pull out her chair and she smiled thankfully at him before giving a small, polite nod to her guests. Allura swept from the room and towards her office, but not before asking Chuchule, who stood patiently outside the doors with her fidgeting younger sister, to guide Prince Lance there when he was ready.

“Can I come too?” Chulatt asked her sister as Allura walked away. “Please?”

“Shhh, Chulatt–” she heard behind her.

“ _Pleaaaase_ , Chuchu? Prince Lance is really nice!”

Allura nearly stopped when she heard the younger girl say that. She had a few questions, but she decided now was not the time.

As she started to ascend the stairs, she heard a sigh and the older sister acquiesced to the younger’s request. She whispered something else Allura didn’t hear, but she was sure it was something about being calm and collected, because Chuchule was a responsible girl, if a bit old for her age.

Her office came quickly, her feet traversing the familiar palace paths even while her mind was lost in thought. She noted that she’d have to ask Shay what she thought of Lance, since she and Coran had spoken more with him during dinner than Allura herself had. She trusted their opinions, and while she already knew that Coran seemed to like him, she wanted to know what Shay thought, too.

To take her mind off of any of the wavering uncertainties bouncing around inside her skull, she sat carefully at her desk and started to go over a few documents pertaining to the wedding tomorrow.

She heard his voice before she saw him, not ten minutes later, and she looked up to the open door.

“It’s this door right here, Prince Lance!” she heard Chulatt’s voice proclaim, with just a touch of cheer.

“Oh, is it this one already?!” she heard him feign surprise even as he slid into view, smiling widely down at his guide. Chuchule was a pace ahead, stiff and nervous-looking, but Chulatt was next to the royal, smiling widely up at him. “Well then, thank you so much for bringing me all the way here, Chuchule and Chulatt!”

Allura quickly pretended she hadn’t noticed them when Chuchule cast a nervous glance her way. She didn’t know why she did it, but she committed to her feint, glancing back up in time to see Prince Lance carefully, playfully tug at one of Chulatt’s pigtails.

She giggled, but at Chuchule’s stern look she followed her older sister’s example and gave him a quick bow. In unison, the younger more excited than her sister, the girls chimed, “It was our pleasure, Your Highness.”

Chuchule added, “Would you like us to stay here, to guide you back to your rooms later?”

“No, but thank you! I’ll be fine,” he laughed, waving them off. “It’s late, so you should attend to whatever chores you might have left and then get some sleep! I don’t want to keep such pretty girls from their beauty sleep, you know!”

Chulatt giggled again, and Allura caught a slight, embarrassed grin from Chuchule.

That was interesting.

She filed away the fact that Lance was good with children, or at least earning their trust. It must have had something to do with being the older brother of Princess Veronica.

“Your Majesty,” he lightly rapped his knuckles against the doorframe, and Allura startled a little, lifting her head and trying to pretend like she hadn’t already noticed their presence. “You wanted to speak with me?”

His grin was lopsided, unsure. It was different than all the warm ones she’d seen tonight, and she added another document to her mental file on Prince Lance of Maricielo.

She stood with a nod, “Yes, of course. Please come in, and close the door behind you, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” he nodded, but she noticed he glanced back out and raised one hand in a wave, probably to Chulatt, before composing himself and closing the door.

“Make yourself at home,” Allura offered, almost uncertainly. She glanced around the room and decided to roll with it, gesturing to a small sitting area to one side of her office, with two chairs and a small couch around a low table. “Please have a seat.”

Once Lance had done so, Allura followed suit, and suddenly found herself at a loss for words.

She wanted to know many things. How serious was he going to take being King? Was he any more prepared for marriage than she was? Would he defer all of the power to her in favor of being lazy, claiming that he didn’t know the laws of Altea and didn’t have the desire to learn?

 _Are you as nervous about this as I am_?

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” his tentative voice cut through her tension like a knife. It sounded like genuine concern, and when she snapped her gaze up to meet his, she felt the worry in his posture and expression. He leaned a little forward, hand hanging in the air between them as if he wanted to put it on her shoulder but was unsure. Now that he had her attention, though, his hand slowly dropped back to his leg, resting atop his jiggling knee.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I was just lost in thought,” Allura managed, shaking her head quickly. “I wanted to speak to you about…”

 _Lots of things_ , but that didn’t quite sound regal enough.

“...the wedding?” he supplied, and she noted that he had linked his fingers together, squeezing tightly.

It was an out, though, and also a topic she wanted to discuss, so she sighed and nodded, raising a hand to card her fingers through her hair. “That, among other things, Prince Lance.”

“Just Lance,” he interjected quickly, but when she looked at him she saw his cheeks color and he averted his gaze slightly. “I-if that’s okay with you, I mean. It’s just that ‘Your Highness’ and ‘Prince Lance’ sound kind of stuffy if we’re going to be married tomorrow.”

So he’d noticed it too.

Allura breathed another sigh, though this one may have been a little bit of relief. “Alright, Lance,” she tested it, and saw his flush darken. “You may call me Allura, as well.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything, so Allura cast around for a continuation.

“I wanted to ask…” she started, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, I wanted to know if...how…”

 _How to phrase any of the hundred questions I want to ask_ , she thought, but inwardly cursed. Allura of Altea wasn’t the speechless type.

He laughed then, and at first Allura felt a rebuttal rising in her throat, offended. But when she looked, _really_ looked, she could see that it was sheepish, embarrassed laughter. He raised a hand and ruffled the hair at the back of his head, grinning at her with that same uncertainty she’d seen when he had first entered her office.

“It looks like neither of us quite know what we’re trying to say but, I’m, uh, pretty sure I’m just as nervous, if not more nervous, than you are,” he said, letting his hand drop. His elbows on his knees, Lance found his hands very interesting suddenly as he stared at them while he spoke. “At first, I wasn’t happy. I mean, I wasn’t ready to get married, and I’m still not, you know? But, even more than for my country, I’d do anything for my little sister. And I know that you’d do anything for Altea, including use our one moment of panic as a path to get what you needed.”

Allura almost responded, but quieted when he added, “And I don’t blame you for that, not one bit. Plus, your kingdom will help protect Veronica, and that’s all I needed to know. She’s the main reason I agreed, but I do still care about Maricielo, so there’s another reason. And I might not be as good as someone else might have been–I’m definitely not as good as my older brothers would have been, if they hadn’t already married–but I’m not going to slack off, Allura.”

He looked up at her then, earnest.

“You’re worried I won’t take it seriously,” he nearly murmured, and Allura was shocked by his observation. It was true, but she thought she’d managed to hide her feelings. “You’re worried, but I swear I’m taking it seriously. I was never really prepared to be a king, since I was so low in the royal line, so I started learning a little too late, but I’m going to do my best. So just...bear with me.”

Allura found, after Lance said his piece, that she had very little to say.

“I understand.” She answered, and then softly added, “Thank you.”

* * *

 

The wedding preparations took the morning from him. Lance had scarcely a moment to breathe between having his wedding clothes tailored just slightly at the last minute to accommodate for height the tailors hadn’t expected, having palace staff carefully tend to his hair, Hunk’s ceaseless pacing and drilling wedding etiquette into his skull. Lance thought he was lucky to have managed a quick bite to eat for breakfast at ten before he was whisked off for a round of lessons for the traditional royal dance, a brief tutorial on his role in the wedding and the coronation that would follow.

Lance was told how to sit, how to stand, how to _look_ at his wife, and many other nitpicky things even before lunchtime.

“I can’t wait for this to be _over_ ,” he whined, slouching in a comfy chair in his guest chambers during a few brief moments of freedom. Hunk stopped straightening his own collar and looked over his shoulder.

“Lance, you know what the whole wedding and coronation being _over_ means, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I get to get out of this stuffy outfit, mess up my hair, and go to bed.”

“It means you’ll be _married_ and a _king_ , Lance,” Hunk’s tone was flat. “You’ve been worrying about this since you agreed to get married. You’ve even said you hoped today would never come, so you wouldn’t _have_ to get married.”

“Shhhh, don’t remind me,” Lance flapped his hand at Hunk to get him to shut up. “I’m still nervous, buddy. Of _course_ I am! But now that today’s actually here, I’ve just gotta _do it_ and get it over with. I’m not ready for any of it, but as soon as today’s over I’m going to _try_ to do a decent job of it. Promise.”

“Lance…”

“Did they have to tie this neck thing so tight?” he groused, tugging at his collar.

Hunk sighed but didn’t press, and then the next wave of attendants and tutors came into the room, this time to talk about how he was supposed to hold the sceptre or whatever when he got crowned as king. Lance thought he might choke on his nerves, but it was no use saying that out loud when he was sure Hunk already knew. Hunk was just too nice to push him over the edge.

Almost before he knew it, a new group came to usher him down through so many corridors that he would have been lost on his own, bowing out when they left him in a small antechamber off the main chapel. Another group of tutors here talked about the ceremony itself, and Lance was perhaps a little too smug about the way he'd impressed them with his knowledge.

He didn't mention how thorough Hunk had been, drilling it into his skull over the last two days.

“Don't take all the credit for being knowledgeable about this stuff,” Hunk groused halfheartedly. “I mean, I'm not saying you'd be _nowhere_ without me but you'd definitely not be quite as _somewhere_ if I hadn't made you study. And not to mention the few times you _ditched_ those lessons–”

“We promised not to talk about that!” Lance protested, his voice rather pitchy. “Buddy, you can't keep stabbing me in the back like that!”

“You also promised you weren't going to freak out and don't think I didn't see you trying not to hyperventilate in the corner right after that last guy left.”

Lance dragged a hand down his face and groaned.

“It was only like, thirty seconds.”

“Still did it,” Hunk declared, avoiding Lance's pointed, pouting stare. “Anyway, straighten your clothes again before they come back. It's only like, two minutes until the ceremony starts.”

Lance whined in protest, mostly to hide his nerves again, but stood and did as Hunk had suggested. And sure enough, just a few minutes later, a boy–Platt, he recalled–came to fetch them.

 

Looking down from the altar was a very different experience from any he'd ever experienced. Many regal, unfamiliar faces lifted to appraise him, and Lance knew that many of them must have been nobility. What shortcomings would they see, and had Allura already seen the same ones?

He shook his head just a little and decided just to be thankful for Hunk, right behind him, and the children who kept guiding him through the palace were standing along the wall. Chulatt was fidgeting, and he smiled fondly.

And then the music started.

Altean wedding marches were decidedly different from any he had heard before. Maricielo’s music flowed and broke like the waves, as fluid as it was beautiful. Altea’s was full of high, ringing melodies and chimes. It was beautiful in its own way, but it was still different.

Lance shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other and focused on the entryway for only a few moments before Shay appeared, a pillow in her large hands that showed the king’s and queen's crowns, as well as a small box that he knew housed their wedding bands.

She walked with grace that seemed out of place in a woman of her stature, practically gliding up the aisle to take her stance across from Hunk.

Something Lance learned was that all wedding marches seemed to have one thing in common: When the music crescendos, the bride makes her entrance.

Allura was positively _radiant_.

Lance swallowed past the lump in his throat but his gaze never wavered. Her skirts swayed around her legs, the soft and airy colors aiding in the way she seemed to float gracefully towards her husband-to-be on Coran’s arm, his darker military uniform contrasting with her gown in an extremely flattering way.

When Coran stopped at the foot of the altar and solemnly raised Allura's arm, a gesture for the groom to take his bride's side, Lance had to ground himself once more.

Gently, carefully, he reached to draw Allura up beside him, his arm resting beneath hers until they could finally be linked at the climax of their nuptials. He didn’t even have to force the smile that crossed his lips.

“You look divine, Your Majesty,” he managed, and then after she gave him a surprised look, he amended, “Allura.”

His cheeks burned, just a little, but he felt her fingers press against the back of his hand–almost a squeeze, he thought–before she said, “You flatter me, _Your Highness_ , but thank you.”

“You deserve a thousand more compliments,” slipped out before Lance could stop himself. “I’m simply afraid that words won’t be enough. Nothing we can say will do my beautiful bride justice.”

He thought he caught a hint of color, high in her cheeks, but he couldn’t be sure with her sheer veil. He did, however, catch the disbelieving look she cast at him as they turned, with the waning of the march, to face the master of ceremonies.

The ceremony began in earnest, and Lance thought that he managed to stumble half-gracefully through the ancient Altean vows that were part of all Altean royal weddings–essentially promising to cherish and love his bride until his dying breath, or hers. The equivalent in Maricielo would have been something like “to have and to hold, in sickness and in health”, but the ancient Altean language sounded more...intimate in a way.

He kind of liked that.

Lance managed the exchange of rings rather easily, since it was familiar to him. The Altean exchanging of rings needed no intermediary, so that he could take the ring from Shay and slide it onto Allura’s finger, and so that Allura could take Lance’s ring and do the same. Another line in Altean was delivered with the ring.

_With this ring, I thee wed._

He exhaled softly, shakily, and felt Allura’s eyes on him. The master of ceremonies directed them to take the other’s hands before she could speak, however, and instead of words, his bride gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. He returned it, smiling at her through his nerves.

In Altean, which Lance only knew because of the rigorous tutoring sessions he’d been subjected to leading up to the wedding, he was instructed to lift the bride’s veil, and so he carefully pulled his fingers from her warm, comforting grasp in order to lift the sheer material. His heartbeat resounded in his ears, and he took another breath as he tucked the veil behind her head.

She was even more beautiful now that he could see her eyes so clearly.

When her cheeks darkened, Lance realized he’d said it out loud and he felt his entire face start to burn.

At least one thing in this marriage would be fine, he supposed–he’d never have to pretend he was attracted to his wife. Allura was strong and beautiful and he might have fallen a little bit from the day he’d first met her, even briefly, when the plans were being officially set in motion.

“ _You may kiss the bride_ ,” came the line in Altean, and Lance’s stomach twisted in knots. He swallowed nervously, but when Allura slid her hands into his, he could feel her own nervousness.

Neither one of them was quite ready for this, even now that they were here. It was still comforting to know he wasn’t alone.

With that in mind, Lance dipped his head down to close the gap, and hesitated for a moment before Allura tilted her chin up, just slightly. Her fingers in his grasp, squeezing his for reassurance and comfort, gave him the courage to press forward, and when their lips met, Lance and Allura sealed their fate.

The crown they placed on his head, just after, gave him more panic than the fact that he was now officially _married_.

* * *

 

It had been nearly a month since the wedding, and while Lance was a constant presence at her side during official proceedings, she never happened to see him in the king’s study. Her own was nearby and she often passed to see the door open, inviting, and no one sitting in the regal chair behind the solid oak desk.

A break, she often told herself, but Allura was never convinced.

If all her new husband, her _king_ , ever did was shirk his responsibilities, it would be almost no different from the last few years when she had ruled with nothing but a her councillors and Coran at her back.

She never heard complaints about his work from anyone else, but she still wasn’t appeased. And when she spotted him, just before lunch, her doubts only grew.

He wasn’t in his office when she’d passed, but instead he was in the courtyard, laughing and ruffling a child’s hair when he passed, kicking their ball before him gently. He allowed it to be taken from him and pretended to pout, but while in another circumstance she might have found this side of him rather endearing, right now it only served to frustrate her.

“Lance!” she called when his path brought him nearer, and he jerked his head up. He smiled sheepishly and excused himself from the children, tugging at Chulatt’s pigtails lightly when he passed.

“Yes, my queen?” he asked, slightly breathless and with a flush darkening his cheeks.

“I would like to speak to you upstairs, if I could,” she kept her tone level but curt, and his cheer faded.

“Of course,” he nodded, gesturing for her to lead the way.

Once they were upstairs, in an empty hallway overlooking the courtyard from another angle, she turned on him.

“Are you taking this seriously?” Allura demanded, glancing down to where the children were still playing. Lance blinked back at her, innocently, and she felt the urge to strangle him with the necklace he was wearing.

“What do you mean?” he asked carefully, and she could tell that he was trying to read her expression.

He was pretty good at reading people, but she could tell that he was confused now. She tried to organize her thoughts, but it was hard to put everything in order. Her frustration, her fears, and her doubts all nagged at her, and she wasn’t sure how to express it.

Finally, she took a steadying breath and just went for it.

“You are a _king_ now, Lance. I don’t know if it hasn’t sunk in yet, but you’ve been king for nearly a month now, and you’ve yet to take a strong stance for _anything_ –except the trade agreements with your home country, but that was to be expected.” Her council really shouldn’t have tried to back out of the pre-nuptial agreements they’d made with their new king’s father, after all. She agreed with Lance’s decision there. “And now I find that you’ve been goofing off with the _children_ in that time! Of course I’m going to ask if you’re taking it seriously!”

His expression softened–surprise morphed into understanding, and from there turned into something gentler in a way that Allura couldn’t describe.

“I’m taking it seriously, Allura,” he glanced to the children again and then back at her, and she straightened her spine from the intensity of his gaze. “I’m taking this just as seriously as you are, but I work in different ways.”

“Work in different ways?” her eyebrows rose in astonishment. “How? By slacking off on your duties and–”

“My duties have all been completed for the morning,” he cut her off, almost sharply. “You can check with Coran, or Hunk if you’d trust him enough. But rather than spending the rest of my morning chatting with the councilmen or members of the court, I think it’s also beneficial to see the country from a different point of view. One that no one else really thinks about.”

“A different point of view?”

He smiled, a bit forced, but gestured broadly over the courtyard where all the children of the palace frolicked, some of the washerwomen watching over them.

“No one ever thinks to ask the children, do they?” he asked, leaning against the rail as he gazed fondly over them. “For instance, Tyr over there? He knows his uncle’s doing a good job at the smithy by the fact that he comes over to share fruits from Maricielo sometimes. That usually means business is doing good. And Halla’s mother, a seamstress, was able to get good fabric for their own personal use, which usually only happens once or twice a year. But Geri over there? His father is having trouble getting good flour for the family bakery, since the border trade route to the west was cut off by the Galra.”

Allura blinked and opened her mouth to speak, but Lance continued.

“I sent someone to check the state of grain and flour,” he turned to look at her, expression quite serious and a definite change from the cheerful looks he usually sported. “They confirmed it for me. I’ve consulted the agricultural councilmen and we’ve constructed a plan to start production on this side of the borders. There is suitable farmland in the southwest, and some of those farmers do still grow wheat and mill flour. We were thinking to help expand their fields, if they agreed.”

“You were able to do this much just based on something a child told you?” she asked slowly as she processed the information.

He really was able to read people, even children, well.

“Ideas can come from the smallest catalysts, Allura,” he didn’t look back at her as he spoke this time, but she felt his words weigh heavily in her chest. “It’s foolish to overlook the children and what they have to say just because they are young.”

She watched him as his eyes trailed back to the courtyard, over the faces of all the children playing there. And Allura remembered times when she would have been down there, too, before her councillors had advised her to be more regal. If it wasn’t for Lance, though, she may have forgotten those times.

Slowly, she reached forward until her hand rested on top of one of Lance’s on the window ledge. She felt him shift in surprise, turning to look at her as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

“I think...sometime, maybe, you should help me learn how to look at things from your point of view.”

She dared a glance up to him and found him beaming.

“Of course,” he answered, and before she could move away, he ducked his head and pressed his lips to her forehead. She nearly jerked away in surprise but managed not to, instead allowing his kiss to linger a few seconds longer before he leaned back with a twinkle in his eye. “You’ll have to teach me how to actually talk to some of the stuffy council guys, though. The only one I don’t want to smack with the royal sceptre is Coran.”

Allura had to stifle a chuckle but the way he beamed, she knew he’d seen through her.

And for the first time since the marriage with him had been arranged, Allura actually felt like things may turn out alright. Lance was a kind man, and considerate, and had proved he was willing to learn. Maybe she could learn from that, too.

“You know,” she mused as she stepped away from the window, preparing to head back to her study until the staff called them for the noon meal, “talking to you has actually made me feel better.”

She turned on her heel to walk away, and smiled to herself as her husband spluttered behind her and asked, “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Nothing at all,” she couldn't stop the sly grin that inched across her face at his indignant squawk. “Perhaps you can use your connections productively, _dear_ , and ask Fenald how his father's juniberry patch is looking, since the festival is just around the corner.”

“Maybe I will!” Lance called after her, and she allowed herself a glance over her shoulder to see his face purposefully twisted in childish stubbornness. His lips trembled with the urge to laugh, his eyes twinkling, and Allura turned forward with laughter of her own threatening to break free.

* * *

 

Just as he'd already been warned, by Allura and Coran and even Hunk, preparing for the juniberry festival was nerve-wracking, but Lance had plenty of time. And Allura actually found herself at ease, watching him and how he handled himself with all the preparations and ceremonies to open the celebrations.

Her people were milling around, giving space to the king and queen as they browsed the fields for the palace’s single flower. The juniberry that would serve in medicines and salves for the royalty of the palace for the entire year would be picked by the king and queen, together, before the rest of the citizens would pick the one flower that would serve them likewise.

Lance had been well-schooled in the festival, and with their arms linked, the king and queen strolled slowly through the carefully tended flowers. While she watched the flowers pass, Allura allowed herself to wonder what kind of juniberry her husband would gravitate towards. Would he choose the most extravagant flower, thinking that size and quantity would be best? A large, bright juniberry would match his personality, at least. The thought amused her.

Allura felt the moment his attention caught, though. His pace slowed, his arm pulling back on hers just slightly in hesitation. When she paused to glance at him, she could tell it had been unintentional.

“Sorry, I just–” he started, glancing away. His eyes went among the flowers, and she let her gaze follow.

“Which one were you thinking of?”

He jumped a little at the question, then glanced around looking sheepish. “No, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, Allura. Have you found one, yet?”

“I want to see it,” she insisted, tone almost stern. After, in a softer tone, she asked, “Please?”

Lance was easy to read. It was something she’d learned about her husband in the last couple of months. And she could feel him relax a little and give in to her request as he slowly detached his arm and knelt. He was reluctant but also eager to please, so with gentle fingers he reached out to brush the petals of the juniberry that had caught his eye.

It wasn’t an extravagant specimen by any means, as she had imagined. It was not the rich violet that she remembered her mother picking one year, nor the pink so pale it was almost white that her father had picked his last year as king. It wasn’t even fully bloomed, but furled elegantly mid-bloom, a gentle lavender with veins of white.

“It reminds me of you,” he spoke softly, his gaze trained on the bud at his fingertips.

Allura sank gently to her knees next to her husband and reached out to link their fingers together, squeezing his hand. When he looked to her, startled, she leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“It reminds me of us,” she said simply, as if it was an explanation. She reached out with her free hand to feel the velvety petals and added, “It’s perfect.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> LINKS TO [ GNOMEWITHALAPTOP'S ](http://gnomewithalaptop.tumblr.com) WONDERFUL FANART FOR THIS FIC ARE [HERE](https://gnomewithalaptop.tumblr.com/post/175150265280/my-first-piece-for-battleshidges-amazing-fic-for) AND [HERE](https://gnomewithalaptop.tumblr.com/post/175150267295/my-second-illustration-for-battleshidges-fic-for)! Go give my wonderful partner some love!!! She had to deal with a lot of me being scatterbrained and busy for this whole thing, so she's a saint! :D
> 
> Thanks for reading, and we hope you enjoyed it!!! :D


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